Me. Myself. And I.

Aiden is at school and Gabriel is down for his morning nap. I should be washing last nights dishes. Sweeping. Throwing in a load of laundry. Cleaning the crayon off my wall. But I can't stop thinking. Thinking about how much more I want to be doing, even while putting off the things I should be doing now. Sometimes I wish I could grab myself by the shoulders and shake myself, "Stop dreaming and live woman!" I mean I am living, but sometimes I think I live too much in thought life. Maybe because the future I dream about is more exciting than cleaning the house.

In case you hadn't noticed, I often struggle with being a stay at home mom. Why do I stick with it? I ask myself that question some times. It's not because it's my job. I could quit a job. For awhile I thought it was because of my up bringing. I was taught by anyone who was Christian that it is the mother's job to stay at home, raise her children, care for her husband, and then when of empty nest, then she can seek out other ways God may want her to serve. I think that logic is bull. Although my mom was a stay at home mom, she did a lot of other things. For awhile I even thought it was because of her I felt guilty for not wanting to stay at home because she believes so highly of it. However she did a lot of things outside the home. We were included in most of it though. I liked that. I would like that for my family.

In the end, I guess I choose to stay home because I want to raise my kids, not because I have to. Even though it's really hard. I am challenged in ways I don't like to be challenged. I have responsibility I don't always feel up for. Even though I know that I am not a perfect mother, or even close, I can't help but believe that no one could raise my kids as well as I do. I believe God placed our boys in our lives for a reason. Not because we are great, but because of all the beautiful things he teaches us through them and them through us.

It's not hard to be a stay at home mom because my kids are crazy or anything (although sometimes it's that). I mostly feel like I have it pretty easy. It's hard because this is a place where I don't get credit. I don't get praise. I don't get a paycheck. I have to teach the respect I do get. Nothing here is fair. I am asked of a lot more than I feel I have to give--a whole lot more than I get. I am forced to rely on God. For strength. For wisdom. Patience. Love. Honesty. Even rest. And trust that He is going to bring good things from my mothering. Not me. That's the hardest part, saying "It's not about me." And believing it.